Interesting day today. I was gifted the job of going to the doctors to pick up Helen’s prescription of drugs for her ‘old lady’ hip. 

In the spirit of Juneathon I incorporated this job into a bike ride. Juneathon part 1.

No real route planned, just headed for the woods. I was tracking my ride using Strava (apparently cyclists choose Strava everytime) and thought it would be fun to ride very fast downhill to see how quick I could go. 

As it turns out my max speed was 31.8 mph. Also slightly scary heading at that speed into a blind corner. 

I carried on for a bit, and ended up doing a sort of big circuit of the town before getting to the doctors. 
Picked up prescription; all good. Took said prescription to the chemist. Now I can vaguely remember picking up a prescription for my mum 30 odd years ago. The price? I’m pretty sure it was less than £2, something tells me it was £1.75.

The price I paid today: £8.40. £8.40 for a box of tablets. The service I received today: poor. 

When I handed my prescription to the sour-faced woman behind the counter I was unaware that I had to fill out something on the back of the prescription (can I remind you it has been 30 odd years since I last did this). After rolling her eyes and doing lots of pointing and gesticulating I managed to work out what she wanted me to do. I didn’t have a pen with me, cue more eye-rolling, followed by huffing and arm folding. With prescription signed and filled in I waited.

And waited.

And waited.

I asked sour-face if there was any danger of my tablets being ready yet. She seemed surprised by my request, clearly I was new to the process, so I waited some more. 

And waited some more.

During the process, sour-face had refilled some shelves, chatted to a customer about her daughter’s recent wedding, dropped a pile of products that were destined for the shelves, chatted to a customer about her daughter’s recent wedding, shouted to ‘Dee’ for her to make her a cuppa, stood staring into thin air, chatted with a customer about her daughter’s recent wedding, moved stuff from its original position on the counter to a new position before moving it back to its original position, all whilst looking sour-faced.

Then it happened. 

My order was ready. They had made a fantastic job of putting box of tablets into bag and sealing with sticker. A first class job. 

Cycled home. 9.2 miles in total. Despite the prescription palaver I enjoyed the outing.

Also, saw this on the way back home on the back of a van… 

Now if that isn’t enough to convince you I don’t know what is. Idiots.

Helen is partaking in Juneathon this year, so when she got in from work I kept her company at the gym. Juneathon part 2.

No treadmill tonight; I’m going for a variety of exercise for Juneathon this year. So tonight it was 30 minutes on that strange contraption: the cross-trainer. What is this thing? How unnatural does it feel? Why does it leave me with a numb big toe? 

6.2km done.

This was followed by 2000m on the rower. I like the rower. For me I’m always rowing down The Thames, I start at the Thames Barrier and row into the city. Water was a bit choppy tonight. 

Day 2 done.

Juneathon totals:

• Running = 5 miles
• Cycling 9.2 miles
• Cross-trainer = 6.2km
• Rower = 4000m